"throwback" poems
You like to say love disappeared.
And I swear it never left, but she talk like Kanye "Ima let you finish"
shrug her shoulders; cut me off, Swift.
Drinks on the table it was no one else's business, Henny in my system there was no one else who witnessed how she never took a breath like a run on sentence so I'm in the club flexing working on my fitness; arms out stretched on my chest crucifixion.
I'm forgiven but could never get a word in not even one syllable I'm talking in synonyms I,
never
ever
nevermore, words with friends. Triple word how absurd you be trippin **** on my Instagram insecurity I'm tired of it I'm with my Boys chillin rarely smoked but might burn a spliff; ease the pain so insane major Payne fatigue is in.
I got a glimpse of future, I use to, try to hit you up reconnect, bluetooth, I'm in her ear lying for the *** I miss you, she on top giving me the truth: this all you. But **** it though I'm not trynna be your man, but when she leaving out for work I be sleepin in
and when she home I tax that *** like I'm Uncle Sam nothing ever change so after head she be at my neck
next
Flashback to the present
--and--
she still telling me how I don't get it
stressed
unproductive in her presence, you not even in front of me I'm still tasting lemons; Yo, my star player wants a trade should I let her go? cut too deep for bandaids should I let it flow.
Throwback to the past vampire clothes but the blood different I'm a sucker for that red though: she was floating 6 inches from the earth floor, you's a victim baby true blood, spoil us! Show Me What You Got lil mama let your "Kingdom Come" dressed in all black spending money black republican? Awesome and some; I was sliding home she was catching, clamping; say I turn her on like a touch screen, Samsung; with a touch of color you would disobey your mother as I slid under your covers
mid-day massages
"Midnight Maunders"
at least that's how it use to be, now Award Tour got her trippin almost frequently
we use to fight for love she said now she a causality!
"and how you gonna make this bout you it's about me, phone ringing since 1am it's about 3
thought you was slick huh,
thought I was sleep, you **** right love disappeared"
but she never leaves.
She's still waiting to exhale, but she never breaths.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
~~~
“To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.” Henri Bergson
well in that case,
I’m either the most immature teen here,
or Rip Van Winkle
the re-creation process is six, nearly seven,
decades long (you thot days, ha, no way),
can’t recall the last name
I called myself
the delving, the researching, the forgetting,
the fifty first dates of no short term memory,
the checkdown, throwback Thursday of
did I write that?
no recollect, the pretense of
prehensile strength to touch
you and me simultaneously
might, could be true,
if you claim I authored it,
ok with me and all that
life taught me this,
the one who oft hangs around
very young kids
learns a lot,
and soon recognizes
maturity indeed endless
but not senseless
just a poem-of-the-day process
indeed
every sense says the minute difference
between this morning and this approaching midnight,
an opportunity to grow up, stand straighter, uprighter,
write down my failures one more time,
cause that is the sterling hallmark impressed upon
thyself, ourselves,
that is genuine maturity,
the courageous wisdom to start all over again
the clock has transgressed,
moving past
the 12:00am digits,
which for cause
makes me giddy,
it’s permission to write a new one,
of course,
maturely thinking I still got one within,
a newbie, an aged day-old brand new baby,
a poem,
of course
god bless, I’m all grown n’ growled up,
with wisdom to know I don’t got nada,
but own the immature youthful courage of maturity,
to keep on trying, endlessly,
being your obedient-servant
~~~
*p.s. this is kind of love poem of thanksgivings,
a love poem with no misgivings,
a thank you for the fragments of sharing -
hold so dear,
the best reason to mature,
the best reason to change,
the best reason to write
right now, here comes the mojo
my newest oldest friend,
reminding for the last and first time
that I’m all growed,
using the bigliest words I’ve known
to say baby, hey baby,
good night good morning
write us a poem,
a thank you note,
from one who blessedly forgets his name,
day in and year out*
For that guy,
you, that ancient kid,
That poet-in-retrograde
so rewrite the title, a refresh,
are you immature enough to write?
1:12am
~for the crew~
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 1:28 AM UTC
It was a throwback party
Of the Bossa Nova
Staying up late until
The dance was over.
The Latin beat pounding,
The music was everything
It was so happy sounding.
Bossa Nova was king.
It is the cousin to samba
And in Brazil it is the way
To party with your amigos
Partying the night away.
Dancing like the music
Lives inside your soul.
Much livelier than cha cha
Twice as hot as rock and roll.
It was a throwback party
Of the Bossa Nova
Staying up late until
The dance was over.
Time to wear **** clothing
Girls in dresses up so high
Men in calças they can dance in
Oba! How the hours fly.
Music, sometimes words
And a strong and ***** beat
Drive away the daily worries
And put the rhythm in the feet.
It was a throwback party
Of the Bossa Nova
Staying up late until
The dance was over.
The Latin beat pounding,
The music was everything
It was so happy sounding.
Bossa Nova was king.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
Throwback to the days
When love was all that we needed
When we barely even studied
But we always succeeded
When tests were a breeze
And homework was breezier
When we had social lives
And everything is easier
Nobody told me
Of the hardships underneath
Of life's hard tests
And life's sharp teeth
Nobody told me
Of the terrors, so small
But they feel so heavy
And they make you fall
Throwback to the days
When we hadn't a care
Throwback to the smiles
And the wind in our hair
Throwback, throwback
For we can't turn around
Throwback to the days
When we were safe and sound
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 7:50 AM UTC
*encloses all with
softened light:
exercise repetitions
as health advisory..
decisions on paths
taken and not..
regrets missed connections
weather limitations..
no shorthand LOLs
a throwback letter
to an earlier time
with instant delivery..
this best of both
old and new..
an ending with
affection..
an email of note...!*
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 12:57 AM UTC
threading the thin line of uncertainty,
you had told my closest guy friend **** i think i'm falling for her*.
and later you would pinpoint that one moment, that one moment we realize we adore a person,
as the slightest second you were staring at your lock screen, which was my photo.
it had been a collage of me doing wacky poses in eighth grade,
a photograph i had posted on twitter as some sort of throwback thursday.
unbeknownst to me, you had saved it to your phone,
setting it as your lock screen and showing it to me the next day mainly to spite me.
over the next few weeks, you would save the photos i'd post or send you,
and set it as your wallpapers,
and come up with some witty one-liner to annoy me with.
and you'd tell me months on about that time you went to unlock your phone, stopping to smile at my old photo in all its chubby cheeks and corny poses glory,
only to realize,
****
i have never been more thankful for throwback thursdays.
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC
I'm a throwback, baby
atavistic and masochistic
I'll pay for dinner and
I'll hold the door
you can complain and
vilify this good guy
but I can take it. Your
feminism does not and can not
impel or compel
me to forgo my manners because
you
can't
tell me how I should
expect to respect
you
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
A war with you,
is like a war with who?
A dance with you,
is like an illusion,
that will never cease to come true.
People have wasted lives,
to have you,
to make two,
as one.
And this desire,
to be special in a fire
they call love that
should be have.
I call it, mind control.
You call it, "True love's toll".
It seems everything's unsure.
If it's an us or is it just me.
Yet you assume,
wanting to love,
to give
to be given
to be loved.
But there is no assurance.
Is there?
A man? A woman?
*They are not everything.*
Everyone comes and go.
They escape our lives,
like a throwback in a row.
Don't waste your life.
A woman may be yours,
but your lives are
a two separate course.
Don't waste your life.
To a man who has the ability
to take and take
while loving you in a fashion,
so fake.
The world goes round,
to money, to fame
*to love.*
But loving can hurt.
And it's not your worth.
So give yourself, the love you deserve.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC
looking
through my gallery
to find the epitome of throwbacks
to be posted on social media
the struggle
i’m tired
thinking out loud
on what’s really important
the memories gone
or
the present ?
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 12:18 PM UTC
I am a fallen angel,
I cannot lie,
A brilliant smile,
And wings of paper
Are my only disguise.
I am a singing siren,
With a coy voice,
And a silver tongue,
I twist my words,
To make things alright.
I am a cold banshee,
A harbinger of doom,
Just a warning for you,
But you fear me so,
You shot the messenger.
I am a unwitting succubus,
Unknowingly stealing,
Hearts of men,
And leaving my morals,
Behind.
I am just Sahmeiraa,
A throwback to my past,
Just a 13 year old nerd girl's RP,
With the only one she loves.
She is nothing to anyone but me.
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 9:02 AM UTC
Karen Carpenter, bridged sued cap d'hiver,
(which I hear will be very en vogue this summer)
fringe falling, as gracefully as music flowing through her veins,
(a Pucci jumpsuit, a throwback to times, of rock and roll)
Pinned hair, taped face to secure a wig cap,
(a daily communion bonding her soul to her self)
those Miu Mui boots, leather wrapped sewn to her body
(to which is laying amid candle light gypsy retreat)
A left thigh, glance of the subtly disguised tattoos inscribing her body,
(do we mark our body, to impress others or to claim our own bodies)
silk Chloé gown, gypsy princess of Parisian quarters,
(Jakarta may someday be a resting place for an unsettled soul)
Placing pencil to paper, poetry writes me as lyrics write her,
(do the ivory keys of the Grand Piano fuse inspiration)
piercing red nails, grasping left handed she writes writes writes,
(maybe notes of her future travels dreams aspirations)
A 70's heroine, born to the wrong era standing in the past,
(Yoko Ono Led Zep Stevie Nicks, mahatma's of a lost scene)
innocence purity porcelain ******* torn from a womb too soon,
(not at once a smile, reflective nostalgia unwavering past future)
A fallen tear drop, a hopelessness of peace in her eyes,
(one can see both tattoos of present; ARTPOP, of past; peace symbol)
a fallen angel, legacy leaving her mark on a generation of those lost,
Her left wrist shows a peace sign as a commitment to such peace
Will this ever be a possibility on a planet we call earth?
© Sia Jane
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
Hey.
The thing is,
I cannot find the words
to articulate the points of differences
between love and infatuation.
I just know.
I know I am not infatuated with you -
how can I be infatuated with someone I haven't even seen?
But,
what I have for you had surpassed the space between us.
It's like we are standing opposite to each other,
directly parallel,
with this gulf, this vast gulf between us.
Dividing us.
What I have for you
is not a bridge that connects these two lands,
nor a boat to deliver me
to that other land
but an element,
an essential element
in order for that bridge to be constructed
and that boat to be built.
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 1:48 PM UTC
When I'm with you,
I'm thrown back into a world
Of randomness and imagination
Much like the world I knew as a child.
We drive through my favorite fast food restaurant and you order the exact same thing I've ordered a million times before yet it's not like anything I've ever tasted.
You've become my childhood best friend. I whisper secrets into your ear. You listen. Hold my hand and share secrets of your own. Mine seem like planets compared to your galaxies.
You shove a coloring book to my face and all I want to do is color within the lines to impress you. But you surprise me and show me how to color outside the lines.
You've thrown me back into a world I thought was long gone. Back to when I thought of only good things. To when Santa was real. To when ice cream was the only medicine. To when a rainy day meant home movies and no school.
To when all I could think of was waiting for someone like you to come into my life...
And now I'm thrown forward into now. Into the present. To when im with you. Beside you. Loving you. Thanking the stars for making the wait worth it.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
If I could sing
You'd throw me back
Say I'm not a keeper
Cuz I can't sing
Your song anyhow.
But if I could
I'd be singing
Something sweeter
To make you cling
To me...all day long.
If I could sing
You'd throw me away
Call me a dreamer
And there's not a thing
I could say to say you're wrong.
When I sing
Toss me into your river
Cuz I'm a dreaming swimmer
I could swim in your water
All night long.
r ~ 5/4/14
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 8:16 PM UTC
People wobbling in the heat haze like a real time hall of mirrors
Street performers sing & flamenco & mime
The snap of digital cameras & excited chatter outside the cathedral
Sangria cold & fruity as it slides down easily
The tram glides past the beggars & hawkers
Gypsies’ curses in coarse andalucian as rosemary favours are repelled
Excited Asians watching every move Large Americans loudly exclaiming their delight as the light fades into dusk
Now the Feria comes alive all lights & ferris wheels & music so much music
Men on horseback women ride sidesaddle all in traditional dress
A throwback to a time before bailouts & austerity
Sing & Dance & Eat & laugh & joke
As dusk becomes evening the ottoman turrets light up
The cooler night air seems to remove inhibitions as people from different worlds celebrate humanity with cheers & smiles
Muchos Gracias & Bueno & Buena Noches in various accents fill the night as the spell is broken
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
Honestly,
I think about you every single day.
From the moment we first met,
To this moment today.
You simply amaze,
My heart is ablaze;
I fell for you in all sorts of ways.
Now here I am, missing you today,
As I sit here in silence, my heart feels astray.
And as the day comes to an end,
The thought of you drifts into my mind.
I lay back to relax,
After all, dreaming of you helps me unwind.
As I close my eyes,
The thought of us drifts through my head.
We're going places,
Full speed ahead.
You take my hand,
We're running through a prairie.
And before I know it,
We're surrounded by fairies.
To our left, there's a pirate,
Who's missing a hand?
"Look, flying above us!
It's Peter Pan!"
So Neverland is where you've decided to take me.
Where we never grow old, stay young, and fly freely.
Well, now it's my turn,
Take my hand and count down from three.
I'll give you a hint,
We'll be deep beneath the sea.
As you open your eyes you gasp!
We're right beside a whale.
I point down,
"Look, you've got a tail!
Come, follow me,
Through the deep blue sea.
I'll introduce you to my friends,
And of course, Chef Louis."
We swim down through a city,
To a palace, we are let in,
Where we meet Ariel, Flounder,
Sebastian, and of course,
King Triton.
A throwback to our childhood,
At least for me,
"I know you love water,
So let loose
Swim free"
After a while,
You give me a kiss,
"What was that for?" I ask
"It's for all of this"
You smile and say
"Even though this is great,
It's my turn now,
And I cannot wait."
You take my hand,
As we swim towards the sky.
"This time will be different,
It'll be just you and I."
"Where are we going?"
I begin to ask.
"You'll see soon enough,
Now put on this mask..."
"I feel so distant,
It's silent, are we far?"
You slide off my mask,
"Look at all those beautiful stars."
I stand there in awe,
Then look back to your face.
"Dear, wh-where are we?"
"You dingus, we're in space."
All around there are stars passing by.
To our right,
To our left,
Low and high.
"Dear, this is wonderful,
I love space!"
"I know," you say.
"It's an amazing place."
I hold your hands,
This dream has been so fine.
I lean towards you,
And feel your lips press up against mine.
As I open my eyes,
I'm back in my bed.
And missing you,
Well,
That's back in my head.
Jun 27, 2019
Jun 27, 2019 at 4:17 PM UTC
Nothing but water. Millions of chemical bonds that sever bonds of the heart, infinitesimally small, but they amount to canyons of separation. On the edges of the canyon stand pieces of a whole, tied through chance equally as small that grew into something beautiful.
The ties that spanned this fluid canyon are stressed by the howling winds of uncertainty, and crashing waves of dire futures lap at this fragile twine, but it holds fast and firm. He won’t let the bond break. He stands ashore of his continent framed by ignorance of what lies beyond its coral shoals, knowing nothing of the ocean that spans his affection, or of the island where his affection finds a home.
And through the storms that threaten to rip the rope that binds him to his adoration from his blistered fingers, he can see the light that keeps his grip fast and strong. He has read Gatsby and knows the perils of ominous lights that cast shadows on placid waters, but Fitzgerald knows nothing of the tangibility of this boy’s shining beacon.
She stands, not as a faint reminder of what once was, but of a blaring beacon of all that could be, and her light pierces through the cynical fog that tries to ***** out her light.
You are my beacon. You are my light through the fog of my daily struggles, the beacon that guides me through these rocky waters, holding my hand so as not to run aground on the sandbars of doubt below me. I stay strong, and I stay hopeful, for one day the bonds of this watery divide will break, and this distance will be lessened, and as easy as folding a map to span miles, I will be there with you.
So as I stand on this shore, ignorant of the island across this canyon, I hold fast in my grip, and I would sooner be pulled into the sea than let this go, hold onto the ties that bind your heart to mine.
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 12:35 AM UTC
There's a place
I go
when I glow like this.
It's not of this Earth.
It's way beyond
this solar system,
like behind the sun.
There,
there
I explode
into a million galaxies,
I lie
in all my glory,
glistening,
covered
in thick-plasma,
the cosmic dust
stars are made of.
You could say,
I am a primordial astronaut,
a throwback,
back to the days
before the odyssey,
back to the days
before
artificial intelligence
****** things up,
destroyed
pure love.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
old school game
like saying exactly how i feel
when i feel it
not waiting the allocated amount
of time before responding to texts
to feign aloofness
making out outside like
when i was 17 at my parents house
afraid of getting caught
with enough surrounding trees
to obscure vision
oblivious to the freezing
nature of this rain falling upon
our skin, it's slick against
my fingers, the perfect complement
to lips connected, the sound
of rain in the background, the feel
of it falling from the brim of baseball cap
(i'm wearing one for some reason?)
the taste of peach (it was apples before)
the fumbling of hands against clothing
(where before it was inexperience,
now the cold hinders movement)
your stunted giggles as my tongue explored
the movements in sync shortly after starting
this dance feels familiar
like slow song, hands on hip
nostalgic yet current
it's something i never knew i craved
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 11:07 PM UTC
I fall in love ever so quickly
I always have
It happens in an instant, it cuts, it stings and it leaves me with marks
The loves either leave me with an itchy scab that bleeds and peels away after a short period of time
Or the loves leave me with a scar that remains and shows everyone I’ve been a victim of something tragic
But perhaps, maybe just this once, the love will leave me with a scar that’s a reminder that something beautiful and deep has happened to me
Perhaps this time the scar is not a throwback to tragedy, but instead an ode to a future of stoic and life lasting connection
Feb 23, 2022
Feb 23, 2022 at 11:18 PM UTC
Have you seen yourself?
Back to old days to present?
Spot the difference! :p
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
Morning starts.
Morning sleeps,
Morning sweeps,
That describes the morning activities around the globe.
Morning stars,
Morning sunshine,
Morning smiles,
Throwback when they were us in the morning.
Morning show,
Morning shakes,
Morning storms,
The morning to mourn, then the morning stops.
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 2:13 PM UTC
the serenity of suicide is intoxicating,
drawing me in.
like a moth, willed to light.
the way i once got caught up in the world of *** drugs,
and sad teens with nothing but happy faces.
as a throwback begins, i am whirled back into
the adrenaline of fake happiness.
if only it was that easy now.
i am now nothing.
an insignificant girl
in an insignificant world.
let me be whisked away, away from it all.
oh the temptation.
who will save us from this labyrinth of suffering?
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 5:13 AM UTC
Best conversations
While the world is fast asleep
Dawn and the sunrise
Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 10:41 PM UTC